I have a semi-problem with this quote.
At first, I read it and liked it; acquiesced with it even—because at that point, the many times a guy had showed signs of wanting to be with me, then running away or ghosting (or whatever else it is called these days) flooded my memory. Particularly, I thought of Mr X, the one Sisi mentions often because Sisi knows how much I like him, how much I liked him. Liked because I have moved on, because I must, because I can, because if you matter to them, they will find a way; and if you don’t, they will find an excuse—like “I am not good for you” or “you deserve better”, and when they find that excuse, you must find yourself.
Then, I remembered myself. I remembered how I had been hurting over something that didn’t quite work with Mr W just before Mr X came along. How W demanded that I fight, and thought me incapable of love because I didn’t find a way to make things work. And that hurt, because I truly wanted things to work, because he mattered.
And many times, many times I have heard myself say the words “you deserve better” to love interests; because I knew they deserved better, because I knew I could not give them the kind of love that they gave me, because I wanted them to be happy, because if you love them, you set them free, right?
I have been the one to tell them “don’t love me” because I wanted to save them from a fall I imagined they would regret, because the one thing worse than a lover’s love is a lover’s hate—And thinking back now, I am not sure if I felt the need to save them or if it was just me saving myself. Does it even matter?
So, I am tempted to agree, but it all dawns on me, now; it is not that simple to agree or disagree. I must have been foolish to think it was. That people don’t work “hard enough” to make things work with us doesn’t mean they do/did not want us, it doesn’t mean we do/did not matter. It doesn’t mean hoot. Because sometimes you try to find a way, make a way even, but you hit a dead end. And what happens then? You go home and have a good cry. Because sometimes, the only “way” is to go a-way, silently, noiselessly. Ghost-fully.
Stronger than lover’s love is lover’s hate.
© The Short Black Girl, 2018.